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Packing up
3 June 2018

I'm packing belongings into one of those huge footlocker-type bins. Everything that I'm putting into the bin is all I have in the world now. A friend and his wife, both of whom I didn't know were there until he speaks, comments that the big bin is too much to carry, that I need to leave it behind. I'm kneeling on the floor and squint up at him as I tell him that what's in the bin is all I have left and it's the stuff that means the most to me. He says he knows but it's still too much. I sigh and tell him I know but I can't bear to leave it behind. He tells me he and his wife will watch over it for me, keep it all safe, until I'm able to come back for it. I take my backpack and start filling it with the items I'll need-clothing, food, first aid kit, camping supplies, that sort of thing-as he tells me I'm running out of time. I tell him I know but I also don't know where I'm supposed to go. It doesn't matter, he tells me, I just need to get moving.

Scene jumps to I'm inside some sort of fenced in compound. There's concertina wire coiled around the top of the fence. Outside the fence, about half a football field length away, is a horde of people hunkered down and watching us inside the fence. I know that the people inside the fence are squared away for at least a year if they ration their supplies but they don't have extra for all the people outside the fence. Yet the people near me are talking about inviting the people in and sharing what they have. I shake my head as I listen to what I term fluffy bunny-land talk about how they'll all live in peace and harmony even after the rations run out. I leave the group at the fence and head to the commissary, where I reload food supplies into my backpack and prepare to slip out of the compound before the idiots open the gate and are overrun. I make it out of the compound and into the nearby woods. Behind me I hear gunshots. Screaming. A few people hustle to join me, fellow escapees. We head up the mountains as fast as we can, trying to put as much distance between us and the compound as possible.

The interesting thing, at least to me, is when I logged on to FB the following day, the first post on my wall was one talking about attending a concert expecting to hear one performer and another performer-one with the same exact name as my friend-took the mike. That made me sit up and take notice, big time.

My friend and I attended the same high school. We weren't really acquainted with one another but we knew of each other. We have since become good friends, even though we have little contact with one another. I won't go into details but the fact he showed up in my dream and said what he did struck me as a message in and of itself and to take what was being said to me seriously.
Thanks given by: Eagle1 , Goldengirl

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